Might Not See Those Eyes
by Apathyisdeath
Summary: Tabris has to tell Alistair, but all he can do is make a promise. Rated for swears, blood and mentions of rape. Sequel coming soon. Alistair/PC.


_A/N: My first ever Dragon Age fic! And let's not let it be the last, either! :D_

I was encouraged to write this because I absolutely love my character's back story. It's just wonderfully done if you choose to play as a female city elf. I was really terrified for those women. But I thought my PC (Trija Tabris) and Alistair are getting quite close (still haven't finished the game), and he doesn't even know about her past? I thought it was just too interesting to be left alone. I know some of the game details may not be 100% a break, it's nearly 2am. :P I would love to know what you think. I would love to do a sequel, so please review. Un-Beta'd...even though I'm a Beta...anyway!

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**Might Not See Those Eyes**  
_"So here we go...now we...oh no (I know)...who knows where, who goes there? Here goes...here goes...here goes....here goes....here goes..."_

It felt like Trija Tabris had been tossing and turning on her bedroll all night under the cold, night's sky. Her thick woollen blanket was knotted and looped around her waist unintentionally and a sheen of sweat lay on her brow. Every so often she would mumble incoherent that could have been, Alistair mused, some sort of Elven phrase, forgotten deep in the recesses of the mind. Sat by his usual place next to the fire, Alistair smiled despite the slight twinge of worry like poison in his stomach. Silvery strands of hair decorated her pale face, escaping the relaxed swish of hair on the back of her head, illuminated beautifully by the eerie moonlight. The blue eye make-up that defined her eyes was smudged slightly, but still almost blinding to look at. She was, though, still strangely dressed in her full Dalish armour, exposing not too much (or too little) of her flat stomach. It was as if she was worried Dark Spawn may attack at any given moment. Alistair resisted the urge to catch the flyaway strands of hair and tuck them safely behind her ear again.

Trija continued to mutter in her sleep, sometimes growing quiet only to pick up again to wild jabberings.

Narrowing his eyes, Alistair no longer smiled at the elf. Her nonsensical gibberish had turned into the signs he knew only as a nightmare that did not want to be relived.

Rising slightly from his position by the fire, Alistair seemed undecided in what to do.

"Trija?" Alistair hissed softly. "Triiiiija?" He accompanied this with a small shake of her shoulder, before backing off quickly as if he may be bitten. He could only wonder what she was experiencing, and console her on her waking.

_Trija lay in a deep nightmare world. She knew it was a nightmare, yet it felt so real. She had never had this nightmare before. It could have been years, or months, in her past; she did not remember. All she knew was that she was standing in a filthy cell meant for human criminals, not innocent elves like herself. It was impossible to see her own hand in front of face, not because the room was dark, but because she was so ghost-like. She recognised the women from her Alienage surrounding her. She did not like this place...it was not safe. There were human men dressed in full armour in front of them all, armed heavily. They did not appear ghostly like Trija and her fellow elves, their colours were bold and very real._

_The men were talking, telling them what disgusting human they were to "entertain". Then they would fight over the broken remains. Trija knew what they wanted of them. Run! a kind woman's voice screamed in Trija's mind, you must run! But trying to run was like trying to run through a pool of shoulder-deep water. Shouting; she felt it. A woman at the front fought back against the humans. _

_Trija tasted the blood before she saw it; it ran down the smirking faces of humans, the terrified masks of the elves and the grimy walls of their cell. A man had killed an elven woman...killed her! Trija stared in horror as the woman spluttered on the ground, a giant gash crossing her throat. The woman's eyes seemed to lock her own, they were wide, watching as the woman spluttered her last humiliation, her eyes rolling into the back of her head. Trija felt the spasms in her throat and knew she was going to be sick. The human at the front grinned at her wickedly, he found her very amusing. Trija choked at him, the bile in her throat was imminent but he just seemed to grin wider. She clutched at her throat, begging someone, anyone, to assist her. They stared blankly at her as the grinning human circled two long arms around her, stopping her from moving her arms. The thudding of blood in her ears felt like drumming, but it was clear that this man was not going to let go. Trija tried to block out the rest of the pain and tried to concentrate on the light. The light...was fading..._

Alistair grimaced at the thrashing woman in his arms. He had at first thought that she was going to have a seisure or a fit, but realising she was just thrashing out against her nightmare, he had encircled her in his arms, trying to keep her head still.

"Stay still, woman! Stay still!" He begged, trying to use humour to make the situation lighter for himself.

He mentally patted himself on the back as Trija's wild thrashings subsided, he was now able to gaze down at the face turned up at him and rested on his chest. Her eyes flickered open and he tried to smile warmly down at her, even though he was terrified. Her eyes were completely blank, like she did not even know who he was.  
"A-are you...okay?" He asked hesitantly. Her eyes seemed to widen slightly: in shock or fear, he did not know. He was utterly confused.  
"Get off me." Her voice was low and dangerous. He half-snorted in shock.  
"But it's me, i-"  
"I said, GET OFF ME!" She screamed, surely loud enough for the whole camp to hear. He did not let go.  
"No, you know who this is Trija, it's me Alistair!" Trija shook her head in disbelief.  
"No, let me go. Please!I don't want to! Soris!" Trija broke down in defeated sobs.  
"But you KNOW me-"

"What seems to be the problem here?" Alistair turned his head to look over his shoulder. It was Wynne; she had emerged from her tent to observe the scene in front of her. Her face fell from it's composed expression to one of utter shock and disbelief.  
"Alistair, release her right now." Her voice was steady and toxic.  
"But I, I just-"  
"**Now**!" Wynne shrieked. Alistair tried to gently place the woman he was sure he loved on the cold, wet ground, begging tears of frustration that he could feel behind his eyes to die. Zevran had emerged from his tent, also staring at Alistair with a look of complete and utter disgust. Alistair tried to calm his ragged breaths, looking over at Wynne. Morrigan had now joined them, very quickly it had seemed. Trija was curled up on the ground, with Morrigan's hands either side of her face. It was difficult to tell what the witch was actually telling Trija, her lips moved so subtlely. Wynne was studying Morrigan with worry etched in every line of her face. Alistair watched the older woman converse with the younger, both tenderly wrapping arms and hands around the elf and lifting her, carrying her towards Wynne's tent. All Alistair could do was watch helplessly as the only one he could rely upon caved in like wave upon shore.  
"Is-is she alright?" He whispered. Morrigan shot him a deadly look before disappearing into the tent.

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It was not until hours later, when Morrigan finally emerged and stood before him that he could feel he could exhale. Alistair was scared to break the silence. It was not until a square smack landed on his jaw did the silence break.  
"And you utterly deserve that, you selfish bastard." She spat out, storming out to her own tent. Alistair swallowed, rubbing his jaw.

"Wynne?" Alistair called "Erm...can I come in?" Noting that it _is_ impossible to knock on a tent.

The material of the tent rustled for a while before Wynne's head emerged. Her eyes were on their way to being back to their calm, normal state. She cleared her throat, speaking quietly.  
"I would suggest that you come back at a later time, Alistair. It seems like she's severely traumatised from...past experiences. I do not wish to spread rumours, but you will have to speak to Trija yourself and if she shall confide in you, I hope you count your blessings."

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Alistair was willing to wait. Trija could not afford to take her time, but Alistair would wait however long it would take. It was not until night fell upon them that Trija emerged from the tent. Alistair was at his usual, late-night post by the fire, watching the jewels of the fire burn out. In Alistair's opinion, she had never looked more beautiful. All make-up was gone from her face and she seemed unusually fragile. She wiped her face with shaking hands, throwing the tent flap behind her on exit. Alistair stared determindly at the flickering coals, not wanting to cause more upset. Trija placed herself elegantly on the floor next to where he was sitting, looking up at the stars and sighing deeply. After a few moments had passed, Alistair felt the warmth of her near him as she edged closer to his back and rested her head on his shoulder, circling an arm around his front.

"Alistair, I am so...so sorry." Alistair examined the slender arm encircling him before fixing a small smile on his face and turning his head to look at her.  
"What for?" Trija jokingly rolled her eyes.  
"You know...for acting like I did." She sniffed "It's...memories of the Alienage, and how Duncan found me. _Why_ Duncan found me."  
Alistair turned his entire body to face her, placing a hand on her cheek and tracing a finger across the smooth skin.  
"Don't be."  
Trija sighed again.  
"No, but that's what I mean...I want to tell you, but it might seem...odd."  
Alistair focused on her eyes.  
"Trija...I won't let you go."

She relaxed, smiling prettily and closing her eyes. Taking hold of the hand on her cheek and keeping hold of it in her lap, Trija took a breath.  
"The Alienage...elves believe in arranged marriage, you know that, don't you?" Alistair nodded slowly. "Well, the day...night, I met Duncan was when my marriage was due to take place."  
She quickly carried on as his eyebrows rose in suprise.  
"Arranged marriage, completely arranged. Elves aren't known for marrying for love. Well, not the city elves. Very traditional. My cousin Soris...his marriage was to take place on the same day to one of the girls from the Alienage. I didn't really know her." Alistair nodded again, taking in the information and tracing a thumb along the palm of her hand.  
"He was so nervous," Trija chuckled. "He was completely dreading it. Anyway, my cousin Shiani woke me up for that day. I had never seen her so excited, she was so happy when my groom arrived early...er, my betrothed, I mean. She gave me my wedding clothes, you probably remember wondering why I was dressed so unusually for a traveller when we met." Trija laughed darkly.  
"I remember...wondering _alot_ of things that day." Alistair smiled lightly. Trija beamed at him but carrried on.

"My father told me he was so proud of me...that was the last time I ever spoke to him. A human lord named Vaughan turned up and tried to...tried to..." Trija turned her eyes to ground, as if ashamed. "They tried to take some of the women from the Alienage, my friends, people I had grown up with, Shiani...they wanted to take me, too." Trija dared not looked at Alistair's reaction.  
"But Shiani attacked Vaughan and managed to knock him out cold before he even had the chance." Trija grinned at Alistair, who looked paler than when she had last met his eyes. "We knew we were in trouble...but what could we have done? We went on with the ceremony but...he...came back. Vaughan came back during the ceremony. He tried to pick and choose his victims: me, Shiani, Soris' betrothed, and others. Lots of the women with families to care for and care for them. We were terrified."  
Alistair could not decide whether to shake his head in disgust or nod and acknowledge. He decided to squeeze Trija's hand tighter, not wanting to move in case he might startle her.  
"This time I decided to do what was right. I could see my father, he was so proud of me and...and- Shiani's innocence...and Soris, he was so nervous. I stood up to Vaughan, told him that we would not do anything he wanted. He hit me...right here." Trija guided his finger to the middle of her cheek. "Knocked me out. We woke up in a cell in his mansion...we tried to escape and one of the girls...Nola...she prayed and prayed to the Maker but no one helped us. She was so desperate. When the guards came, she shouted at them to lets us go..." Trija's eyes, brimming with tears, rested on the fire. "They killed her right in front of me...I had never seen so much blood...cut her throat and I could taste it...it was the moment I knew I was changed forever. I'll never forget her eyes staring into my own." Trija shuddered. Alistair was dumbfounded.  
"Soris got us all out...all that blood...but Shiani. She was never the same. She got the worst...she was..." The tears that had been threatening to spill finally overflowed from the elf's eyes, cutting her story short. Alistair's hands were already at her cheeks, wiping the tears and replacing them with a kiss. Trija snaked her arms around his neck, trying to just forget everything and remember that the present was only important.

"I just- I just need to go back, Alistair. I need to see Shiani. I already felt like vermin, abandoning my own family in their hardest hour." Their eyes met once again and she felt comfortable doing so now. "Tell me you'll come with me.." she whispered the last part.  
"Of course," he whispered back. "Of course I will."

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_**The End**_

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